It was the same color as the dress.

I unclogged the sink, I wore twin tails.

I slept for two hours, from ten to noon.

I just wanted music. I watched videos

of cheetahs mewing, kittens chirping.

I could barely keep myself awake.

Give me an absence orgasm, an abandonment orgasm—you’ve learned

in abstract that this is what she wants. “You” have nothing to do with it.

Before leaving squeeze her to your cock, feel how she is small

by the way your cock presses against the strait of her stomach.

Sense of scale—your torso is cavernous, mine carries the most minimal

of organs. Shoulders sore as if running can produce tectonic striations.

Sense of scale: your soul is smaller, and this is essential.

She looks at the ground, you look at the top of her eyelids.

Act dumb, be dumb, then produce a resonance with a blanket.

Away you are and she is listening with her face in the blanket.

Ocean in the womb. Maybe it’s just what she ate.

Lamia steals the air into this white woollen stuff.

The shape of the inner chamber is “like a face.”

Pure and individual and container for all.

I mentioned the mermaid so I thought I’d study Melusine—

She’s just another siren invented by anxious men.

I’m a barnacle, a siren, a lotophage.

He’s an Orpheus who doesn’t look back, and I don’t follow.

I’m “completely useless” in a beatific sense, it’s unbelievable.

Baby takes your hand and puts the dactylic row on its eyelids.

You think it’s funny that such a reader’s favorite word is “it.”

Don’t you know from your accidental choice of Proofs and Theories

That the wonder of the poet arises from the space of combination?

How should the enunciative apparatus walk around events?

“Transcendental études.” That’s not an answer, it’s sound.

I’ll never invite you here, unless you invite yourself.

Matutinal clarity of the kind which produces undemanding insight.

You’re welcome to see me fail to subject you to narrative mutilation.

I’m happy for a presence which escapes the washable, diffused.

See the girl shocked to whiff something out, walking in the open field.

I can’t remember the broken parentheses, the bent paper-clip which looks like “Z.”

I can’t remember pressing down on the foot-pedal to make water spurt out of a tube.

Thin string-like penis sucked in a hypnopompic daze is how I remember them now.

I won’t say why pulling metal wound around metal with keratin from a horse is like x.